Standing Outside of Heaven
by cupcakemolotov
Summary: When Caroline Forbes is sixteen, she's cursed by a demon. Forced to flee from her coven, she learns that not all curses are what they appear, and that demons can take many forms. Including the shape of her soul mate.


Caroline paced along the small confines of her hotel room, the blast of the AC doing little to cool the air. Phoenix had sounded like a good idea a few days ago, the warmth a stark contrast to the snow and plummeting temperatures she'd escaped in Minneapolis. But now she'd have willingly thrown herself into a snow drift, anything to block the twisting knot in her stomach.

A set of hurried footsteps outside her door left her frozen, foot hovering mid-step. A few moments later a door banged shut, the loud sounds of a Christmas Celebration cutting off abruptly and she caught her lip nervously, foot dropping slowly to the floor.

She needed to run.

She should've run yesterday.

By now, the airports and Mexican border would be watched. She could make for Canada, but she doubted she'd have time for the drive; now with what was hunting her through shadow and air. Dallas or Las Vegas would've been her best bet to get out of the country entirely, but driving alone for hours was asking to be caught.

She didn't trust trains. Didn't want that kind of collateral damage on her conscience. That didn't take away from the fact that she needed distance, as quickly as possible, if she wanted to buy herself any kind of time.

Curling her arms around her waist, Caroline stared at the closed window, lips pressed tightly together to hold in her wobbling exhale. Her skin itched, the thrumming in her blood a warning she knew to heed. It'd served her well for nearly twenty years, but she was afraid she'd trapped herself. Squeezing her eyes shut, she set her teeth and forced herself to think.

She was out of options.

Except for one.

Cursing, Caroline ground her teeth and pressed her fingers tightly to her lips. For twenty years, she'd ducked and weaved through every shadow she could find, hiding every bit of herself. She'd left behind Caroline and become a ghost. Some secrets should be kept, some nightmares hidden. She'd understood that as she watched Elena Gilbert scream as she was sacrificed, understood that when she'd seen the darkness that lived in Esther Mikaelson's eyes.

 _"It is done," the monster that wore Esther's face declared, lips curling into a smile that terrified Caroline. Laughing, eyes bright, she smiled at the fire that burned in the middle of the clearing. "Not even you, my son, can escape this curse."_

 _Caroline kept her face and eyes impassive, sweat beading along her spine as terror knotting her stomach. The spell was supposed to be a binding, an affirmation of the protections that kept the coven safe. But Esther had murdered their doppelgänger, had slit her throat with a rib she'd ripped from Elena's side, and bile still lingered on Caroline's tongue._

 _Esther's children were dead. Liz had told Caroline that years before, when she'd asked her mother why Esther didn't like her. She'd been told they were all killed by a demon, and that revenge changed people._

 _"You might remind her of what she has lost," Liz said carefully. "That's all."_

Staring at the smile on the witch's face, Caroline had the sinking sensation in her stomach that it wasn't all that had happened.

If only she hadn't woken the next morning, branded by a mark that meant her death. She was a perfectly baited trap, and she'd done her damnedest for years to keep it from being sprung. Blowing out a breath, she raked her fingers through her hair, frustration a blade in her chest. Pacing back and forth, she clenched her fists as the itching in her blood grew worse.

She was running out of time.

The world had changed, in the last twenty years. Witches were disappearing, and shadows had become dangerous. Werewolf packs were scattering across the world, and demon sightings were on the rise as the human death toll rose. Something terrible was sitting on the horizon, and Caroline had no intention of helping Esther gain more power that she already had as the world changed. She he had no interest in facing what lived in Esther's skin.

Not on her own.

But with the a hunt screaming in her ears, it was clear that any neutrality she'd hoped to keep was an impossibility now. It took only two steps to reach her bag and pull out a knife she'd kept hidden for years. She'd stolen it the morning she'd woken marked by magic. The hilt was simple and clever, the blade carved from bone. It had taken Caroline years to adjust to the feel of it, the endless buzzing of magic.

Demon magic.

 _"Only a dagger made of its bone can kill a demon," Liz had told her once, her lips compressed into a tight line. They'd spent the day grinding salt and powdering sage for the upcoming ceremony._

 _Caroline glanced at her mother, startled out of her work. "What?"_

 _Liz had studied her for a long moment, her eyes dark before she came to some internal decision. "You must never speak of this to anyone, Caroline. Do you understand?"_

 _Caroline had swallowed, tongue swiping across chapped lips and tasting salt. The ingredients for the ritual disrupted the magic around them and Caroline realized for the first time that no one was listening, that for the first time in years, she was talking to her mother._

 _"Magic doesn't belong to humanity. It's a gift and curse, depending on where you stand. To get our magic, our ancestors made terrible bargains. Each one of us, we can track our magical lineage to a demon. And when we grew powerful enough, we killed the demons who gave us our power, ensuring that the magic would remain ours, or so we thought."_

 _Caroline's skin prickled, mouth running dry. "What do you mean, we thought? What kind of bargains?"_

 _Liz glanced away from her, eyes lingering on their front door with tense shoulders. "We don't have that kind of time, Caroline. Demons are clever, far more clever than our ancestors gave them credit for. They are not easily killed, and they do not easily give up their power. What Esther did… I need you to promise me, Caroline, that if you get the opportunity, to run, that you'll do it. And you'll keep running. Never stop."_

She hadn't had a chance to answer, her heart pounding in her ears, because they were joined by others and any chance for conversation was over. Caroline had never had the opportunity to dig any further, to discover why it was important for her to know how to kill a demon. What bargains had been broken as witches stole their power.

But that night she'd understood exactly what her mother had meant. And she'd learned why she could never stop running. Esther wasn't right. What crawled beneath her skin wasn't magic, not the way Caroline knew magic. It wasn't joy and the rush of adrenaline, the biting need to protect, to defend.

What sat in Esther looked like tar, and it coated everything she touched. Caroline had heard someone murmur that she was too close to the source, that the bargain she'd made had corrupted her. Looking at the black eyes from inside a face she'd known all her life, Caroline was sick with the realization of what this was. Esther hadn't merely taken magic from a demon, that demon now lived inside her. Esther had given it everything, and what was left were nightmares and shadows.

It was the first time she'd realized the true cost of her magic.

Over the years, she'd seen it in other places.

 _"Its rare to find a witch on her own, anymore," a man had told her once in a bar over whiskey. She'd been pouring drinks and flirting with humans for tips, needing enough cash to get her out of Oregon. She'd have brushed him off, regardless of how handsome his face, uninterested in philosophical mutterings, but he'd reached for his glass and she'd caught sight of his tattoo. It matched the one that she kept covered with magic and jewelry, and her heart fluttered in her chest._

 _"Strange, to find one in such cold country." He continued with a clipped accent, and her eyes returned to his face, took in the beard and tangled curls, the narrow eyed intensity as he looked her over._

 _Brows arched, Caroline shrugged, kept the hurt and rage of her truth from coloring her eyes or voice. "My coven is dead."_

 _It had left her ragged and broken for months, the newspaper photographs that had shown the remains of what had once been her family. The body of her mother. A tragic fire at the Mystic Falls Community Center, so that dental records had been used to identify the remains. Esther's work, her revenge for a plan failed._

 _He grinned, a flash of even teeth. "Good riddance."_

 _Caroline stared hard at him, jaw a tight line. "They were my family."_

 _"Some family," he said easily, as if he wasn't shoving shards of glass into her chest. "Aren't worth claiming. Where you from, sweetheart?"_

 _"None of your business." She have him her sharpest smile, let her voice turn cool. He laughed then, finished off his drink when Caroline would've stepped away to help someone else, tapping the rim of his glass. Mouth set in a grim line, she poured him another._

 _"If you're the last of your line, witch, you'll need to run faster. Demons chase what belongs to them, and you're never safe once they have your scent."_

 _Caroline thought of Esther, the way doppelgänger blood had dropped from her skin as she invoked spells that should never have been spoken. Thought of Elena's screams as the spell was released, the way her friend had died. She held the stranger's eyes without blinking._

 _"That's also none of your business."_

 _A quirk of a smile and a shrug. "Perhaps not, but it's sound advice, regardless. I'd take it, if I were you." His gaze flickered to her name tag. "Brandy."_

 _There was something behind his eyes, something that sent a sharp spike of worry down her spine. "You seem to be strangely well versed in magic for someone who hates witches."_

 _He dug out a few bills, dropped them onto the counter. "Any other night, and we might be having a different conversation, witchling. But it appears I don't have the stomach it. And perhaps I admire the guts it takes, to be a witch on her who doesn't stink of expression magic."_

 _Caroline watched him leave, stomach in knots before she picked up the payment. He'd tipped her a hundred bucks, and she debated ignoring the gesture before deciding practicality was more important than pride. She hadn't gone back after her break, had been in St. Louis inside of a week._

Caroline turned the knife she rarely touched over in her hands, careful to avoid the edge. Demon bone, she'd been told the only time she'd shown it to someone else. The knife was short, barely the length of her hand, and she'd never been able to get rid of it.

 _"Bone can be brittle," the blacksmith said, eyes calculating. "This must have been torn from the demon when it was young. Can you smell the salt and blood it was forged from?"_

 _"Why does that matter?" She'd asked carefully._

 _He'd shrugged, but there had been something in his eyes that sickened her. A sort of greed. "Baby demons are rare. You can do a lot with their body parts."_

She'd killed the blacksmith, had burned his body to ash and mixed it with salt. She had given him what rites she could, had thrown up when it was done. She couldn't risk Esther knowing she had the knife, that the horrible spell had somehow found roots in her soul.

Caroline couldn't risk being found.

She just hadn't expected magic to have other ideas. In Dallas, she met her first Witch Hunter, a dark eyed man with a girl on each arm who watched her with coal in his eyes. Weeks later, she'd meet him again in Detroit, and this time he wasn't so amused by her.

 _"Running?" A voice called after her, darkness and mockery chasing each footstep. Caroline didn't slow, didn't hesitate as she headed for the stairs. Behind her was the sound of things being rendered into pieces, and instinct drove her forward. Her hands scrambled for the door handle, metal overly warm._

 _She should never have come here. She'd known it was a risk, but the magic here threatened to swallow her. The screams and laughter from the other end of the hall would chase her dreams for weeks._

 _It was the snick of the lock thudding into place that had her turning to bare her teeth. Enzo was smeared with the same blood that stained her palms and knees, streaked across her face. She'd learned his name all those weeks ago in muggy Dallas, wanting to avoid him. The smiling man with hunting eyes was gone now, buried beneath a ruthlessness that stirred her magic and her wariness._

 _"You killed them," the accusation in her tone turned her voice harsh. The witches, the coven she'd hope could offer her information. Not all witches had betrayed their bargains and there was still so much she didn't understand about the spell she carried like a siren song beneath her skin._

 _"They shouldn't have kept what belonged to someone else," Enzo said reasonably, hands held away from his body as if to calm her. She wasn't a child to be taken in by false pretenses, knew that some magic only required intent. "Demons chase what is theirs to keep. Witches have played with power that doesn't belong to them long enough."_

 _He was a hunter, then. She set her jaw, to keep from trembling. "Demon?"_

 _All she'd seen was a tangle of dark blond curls, black eyes and dimples stained by blood, and a niggling familiarity that sent her running. The power locked in that room had sent her scrambling, Enzo chasing her. Something about the magic had been unnervingly familiar, and she needed air and to get as far away from him as possible._

 _Enzo laughed. "Of course. He hardly hides what he is, Gorgeous. What are you doing here?"_

 _Licking her lips, she tried to decide what not answering would cost her. She had no way of judging his strength, the demon was to close for her comfort, and she could feel the way it tugged at her magic. Terror made it hard to think, her breath short and quick, but she tried to ground herself._

 _"I needed supplies," she said finally, tucking her lies within truth. "Some things are easier to bargain for with other witches."_

 _She'd needed answers about Esther. Caroline had started to feel eyes watching her, and started sleeping in a circle of purified salt to stop the nightmares. Esther knew she was alive, and whether she knew Caroline carried the remnants of her spell was something Caroline needed to know._

 _Enzo did show a reaction one way or another, eyes unwavering. She'd no idea if he believed her, but it might not have mattered. He crossed his arms and watched her with an expression she couldn't read._

 _"A pity. You'll find your kind are becoming short in supply." His smile was satisfied. "Being a witch is now a liability, Gorgeous."_

 _She knew that. This was the third State she'd tried, the last two leads on a coven a bust. It seemed the world Esther had warned them about, one rife with demons and revenge, was approaching. But thinking of Esther right then would only distract her. She needed to survive this first._

 _"If you hate witches so much, why haven't you killed me?" She lifted her chin, refusing to flinch away from what she could feel gathering in the hallway. "Why not force my magic to return to its original host?"_

 _Enzo arched a brow, scanned her, and he shrugged. "Thought about it, when I saw you in Dallas. A dead witch is a good witch, I've always said. But I'd had a few priorities rearranged before we met, and let's just say you're the beneficiary of that."_

 _"Do you expect a thank you?" she snapped, fingers curling into fists, words harsh._

 _He laughed. "What coven did you belong to, witch?"_

 _"You're hunting my kind," Caroline said finally, eyes burning hot. "Hunting me, like I am prey, and now you expect me to willing give you information?"_

 _"All witches are prey," Enzo said dismissively. "Some more than others. Don't look so put out, Gorgeous. You haven't given me any reason to kill you, just yet. And it appears that Klaus is feeling magnanimous after having gorged on what was stolen from him. Tell me, what's your name?"_

 _She froze, inching back and he watched her with unblinking eyes. Klaus. She knew that name. Had grown up under the shadow of it, had spent over a decade avoiding it. She needed to escape, she couldn't let Klaus touch her. Her mouth was dry, voice a rasp when she spoke. "You're his Hunter."_

 _"Witches killed my wife. Then they tortured me for years, changing me until I'm not quite human anymore." His smile was predatory this time, and she straightened, alarm slamming in her chest. "They wanted a demon killer, and instead, I'm going to be the instrument of their destruction. But as I've been repeatedly told, not all witches are the same. And your magic is a curious thing, witchling."_

 _Caroline shook her head, eyes hard. "I won't help you kill my people."_

 _"No? You've been running for at least a decade, maybe more. You're a difficult girl to track, even when knowing what to look for. You use your magic sparingly, and your smart. We could use someone like you."_

 _His knowledge jolted through Caroline, and she set her teeth. She'd have snarled, acid hovering on the tip of her tongue, but Klaus stepped into the hallway. Those curls were streaked in rust now, and the lean lines of him liberally painted in gore and blood, all of which he seemed unbothered by._

 _"What do we have here?" The low, accented voice was a rasp against her nerves and her stomach clenched in fear as those black eyes locked onto her. For a moment, she was terrified he'd peel away her protections and skin until he found bone and all her secrets. His lips curled into something predatory, dimples cutting into his cheeks._

 _"A witch from a different coven," Enzo said, voice smoothing into something like amusement. "I thought she might make a decent recruit, since you seem determined to collect them."_

 _An arch of brow, and her breath turned to ice in her lungs as the demon's eyes narrowed. The black faded to blue, and something heated his gaze, an awareness she did not like sparking in his eyes like lightning._

 _She was terrified he could see the lingering influence of Esther's magic against her skin. His gaze locked with hers, and Caroline could feel the edges of the spell trapped beneath her skin beginning to unravel. Her chest lurched, wrist burning, as everything inside her recognized his power._

 _"Well now," Klaus murmured, something sharpening the edges of his smile. Panic turned her blood cold. He couldn't know who she was or she'd have never escaped Portland. The air crackled with power and it took every ounce of self control to keep her magic buried, when it wanted to rise to the surface, to touch what was all around her. "Hello again, sweetheart. You're a long way from Portland."_

 _Her heart seized in her throat as she realized where she'd seen his face before. "I don't tend to stay in place when someone threatens me."_

 _Bloody hands clasped behind his back, he watched her with a calculating smile, the tired humanity she'd once seen on his face gone. Behind his eyes glittering an old, vicious sort of hate. An explosion rocked the room, and the Klaus' attention shifted, eyes lingering on the stairwell behind her._

 _"Make her my offer," he said with another hot, flashing look that threatened to scorch her. "I'd consider it, sweetheart. As you can see, Coven's are targeted these days, and witches on their own are easy pickings. I'd hate something as sweet as you to die so soon."_

 _With that drawling statement, Klaus turned and left. Enzo watched him disappear before turning back to face her, something thoughtful on his face. She was shivering now, the rage and fury of Klaus that had threatened to burn, her leaving her cold once it was gone. Her body throbbed, as if she'd been stroked, and she wanted to crawl out of her skin. Her magic wanted out, to call him back, pushing against her skin with an intensity that left her bones brittle._

 _"A war is coming, Gorgeous." Her eyes slipped back to Enzo, and he watched her with hard eyes. "Witches are dying, which is leaving too much power unclaimed. Demons are crawling through the void to reclaim their lands."_

 _"I don't want a part of it."_

 _Enzo watched her with unreadable eyes. "You'll find it harder to avoid than you think. He has your scent now."_

 _The handle turned beneath her fingers. This time, she didn't waited for someone to tell her to run. She didn't want know what the offer was. She bolted._

For years, she'd run from Esther. She'd ignored the crumbling of the world around her, because of the secret she wore under her skin. But nothing she'd survived had prepared her for how dangerous, how utterly charming, Klaus Mikaelson could be.

Atlanta. Tulsa. Trinidad. He'd tracked her to a number of cities, and once she even found him sprawled across her couch in her cheap apartment. And every interaction, each barbed exchange of words, broke open Esther's spell a little more in her veins, until she felt a almost drunk around him.

There was no denying he was unfairly beautiful. The long, lean lines of Klaus tempted everything around him to just lean forward, to stroke. Caroline was positive he'd remove limbs for such a transgression, but she was also certain he could seduce a lamppost. Power clung to him, a drug against her senses, but it was the twisting, lethal patterns of his thoughts that tempted her the most.

He thought she was a curiosity, a pretty amusement that had the potential to be a weapon. Caroline didn't trust him. Didn't trust herself around him.

Particularly once the dreams had started. At first it had just been snatches of sensation, lingering impressions that lingered for a day or two. But with interaction, with every clash, her dreams grew achingly vivid. Until she could almost imagine the taste of his tongue, the softness of his curls knotted between her fingers. The fullness of his cock inside her, the rasp of his voice against her skin as he tortured them both.

Then she'd gone to Chicago.

And Chicago had gone to hell.

Breath shaky, she pressed a hand to her side, the sudden remembrance of burned skin, the char of it in her nose, and she shuddered. Klaus' face, as he licked her blood from his fingertips, the crawling knowledge that turned his eyes black. Caroline had known then that he knew. She'd panicked.

Her magic had twisted up for the first time in years, the strength of her terror and frantic need to escape wrenching her world sideways. When she'd regained control, the endless thundering of escape, escape, escape in her veins easing into something like shock, she'd been in Minneapolis.

And now, Esther was closing in and Caroline was out of time, and out of all choices but two. Thumb brushing along a mark painted in shimmering gold on her wrist, she swallowed. She could break this seal, unleash the curse that Esther had let rot in her veins, and she might live. Or she could let herself be caught, turned into a weapon against Klaus. Her body rebelled at the thought, stomach twisting into knots and she exhaled shakily.

No choice, really then.

She didn't trust this false need that crawled in her veins, but she trusted Esther less. Esther, who had slaughtered Caroline's childhood and left behind the bones of her family. She took a deep breath and skimmed the blade just hard enough enough to break skin. The air crackled the moment her blood hit bone, and she shuddered as electricity arched over her skin.

The magic momentarily felt like her mother, her sisters, and a tangled reminder of her past, before fire burned away the terrible comfort of it. She gasped, staggering to grip the table, every part of her on her fire. A strangled scream worked out of her throat, and her nails cut into the wood.

Then it was over, and all she had left was the sweat on her skin and singing nerves. Chest heaving, she tried to let go of the knife. She jumped as a knock sounded on her door, and Caroline was surprised her skin hadn't split open with the sudden force of her movement. Shuddering, she swallowed harshly at a second, more impatient knock and carefully padded her way to her door.

The handle was warm to the touch, and she didn't need to look to know who stood on the other side. Mouth dry, nerves trembling with a need for fight or flight, Caroline opened the door. "Klaus. Knocking now? How surprising."

Tangled curls, scruff along a jaw she'd fantasized about biting more than once, the wild intensity of his eyes were still shaded blue instead of black. In that moment, he looked nothing like his human mother. She'd never seen pictures of the acolyte who'd tricked Esther into believing he was human, and in turn had impregnated Esther with the demon she'd originally bargained with for power, but she thought Klaus carried bits of Ansel on his face.

"Hello, Caroline," his drawled, words low and dangerous. His eyes dragged down her body until he reached the dagger she clenched tightly between her finger, and his smile was mocking. "Going to try to kill me, sweetheart? And after you so charmingly called for help."

His eyes lingered on the smear blood on her skin, tongue running along his lower lip, and she straightened her spine. His gaze finally lowered, lingering on the side that had been bleeding the last time she'd seen him. His eyes returned to hers, and her stomach jumped at the tangle of emotions she couldn't entirely read. Rage, at the magic that threaded between them like spiders silk, the unashamed desire he'd worn on his skin for her since Atlanta, but the rest?

"It'd serve you right if I did stab you," she rasped, voiced still edged in pain. "But what would be the point?"

Not now, when her magic was bleeding between them. Klaus smile was full of terrifying promises, and mocking amusement as he shifted his shoulder to brace against the door frame. "You're being hunted. Shall I come in? Or would you prefer that I slaughter your enemies, leave them at your feet like pagan offerings?"

She opened the door and walked away, knowing he'd follow. "If I had another choice, I'd have taken it."

Klaus' laughter followed her inside and she shivered. He shut the door behind him, Caroline knew for now, she was the focus of attention. Dangerous, so dangerous. She'd known just how dangerous the first time he cornered her, eyes burning and skin too close for comfort, lips curved in a hunting smile.

"It's been a long time since I was curious about someone, sweetheart. Keep your silence, I like a challenge. It'll make your capitulation far sweeter on my tongue."

He'd warned her that demons never stopped chasing what they thought belonged to them.

"Should I be flattered?" The drawl of his voice prickled goosebumps along her skin, a threat and a promise roughening his words. "Tell me, Caroline, how long did you expect to keep your secrets?"

She set the knife down and turned to face him. He'd sprawled across the uncomfortable couch, dominating her space easily. There was nothing easy on his face, but it did nothing to still the itch in her palms, her magic's greedy caresses of his power. "As long as possible."

Another laugh, and he tossed an ankle over his knee, body at ease. But his eyes, they burned through her as if she was made paper instead of flesh and bone. "And now?"

Caroline flexed her fingers wide, stared at Klaus with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean now?"

He rose and was suddenly so close, the heat of him was a brand against her skin. He made no move to touch her, just lingered close enough that his breath mingled with hers. "Come now, sweetheart, you've given me quite a chase, but I believe it's gone on long enough, don't you?"

"Well," she said, voice taunt. "I suppose that depends on you and if you're going to try kill me or not."

"Kill you," Klaus repeated, brow arching slowly, and then, only then, did he stroke was a single fingertip down the smooth line of her cheek. "Oh no, my pretty little soulmate, death is the last creature that I will allow to so much as glance in your direction."

Her eyes narrowed at the satisfaction in his voice, the rough rasp of possession. "Everything dies."

Klaus traced her jaw for a moment, almost as if he couldn't help the gesture as his smile was sin. "Demon's do not."

"I'm human."

"You're a witch, twice bound to me. Once through your ancestor's oaths and now through the magic you just accepted." His eyes lowered to her lips. "You're utterly mine."

"I didn't chose this," Caroline argued, jerking her chin away from his caress. "I might have accepted it, but it wasn't my choice, and I belong to me."

"Do you?" Klaus mused, stepping away from her to return to the couch. She struggling to hide her shiver, the air cooler now that he wasn't pressed so close. "And what do you know of soulmate magic that tells you this?"

She slowly followed him, uncertain at the indulgence she could hear in his voice. She hated having to admit what little she knew, wanted to dig her teeth into his smirking mouth. A knot formed low in her stomach, heat a rush beneath her skin.

"You can't own someone," she said instead.

A low, thoughtful sound as he watched her. When he spoke he made his voice a caress, and she dug her nails into her palms to steady herself against that lure. "Soulmate magic is demonic in nature. An unfortunate side effect of crossing over into your world. A built in weakness, if you will. Fairly distasteful, isn't it? The idea of being bound to someone so closely, you cannot live without them. A bond that grows stronger as it ages. I expected you to make an appearance on my first attempt to claim territory in this land, I had all sorts of generous offers of death planned out."

"Generous," she bit out.

"Quick deaths are rare, when making bargains with my kind. Did you imagine your precious little covens were granted power from the goodness of our hearts?"

Caroline snorted, crossing her arms. "You have one of those?"

A quirk of his mouth, but he ignored her barb. "On occasion."

When he said nothing else, clearly delighting over her frustration, Caroline set her teeth. "Why did you bargain with witches?"

Dimples, deep and delighted, teased her. "It was a loophole, if you will. Magic does not care if power of shared between a soulmate or a coven. At the time, it seemed a bit more prudent, to place my mark on this world through witches. Minions are in such short supply on this side of the void. A pity they decided to betray me, but that judgement is almost complete, as your presence shows."

"My presence?" Caroline said slowly. "You were reborn as a human. Enzo said you were reclaiming your power. If you're made of human flesh, why would…"her

Klaus smile disappeared, and a pit crawled into his eyes. "I am taking back what is mine, but you cannot believe that I would be satisfied in human flesh and bone? Your appearance is a sign that my restoration is nearly complete. Magic's promise fulfilled. You must have sat like a bone in Esther's throat, all these years."

"Esther cursed me with this," she snapped. "How can I be a sign of anything?"

This time, when he stood, he pulled her flush against his body, so that the heat of his skin teased her nipples, burned a line down her abdomen to pool low in her belly. His hands cradled her jaw, thumbs stroking her cheekbones, magic heady against her senses. It'd have been easy, to allow herself to get drunk on the feel of him, to soften until his weight held hers. Her fingers dug into his hip, his ribs, as she fought the feel of him.

"Esther cannot create soul bonds, for all that what lives inside her is insidious. All she managed was to call out an existing possibility. I have known who you were, pretty little Caroline, since you stood before me in that hallway in Detroit. And I have tempted and taunted you, eased my way past your defenses with each interaction and still you have defied me. Until Chicago. Until now. Do not look so surprised, love. You cannot believe the power to escape me then came only from you, and not the bond between us?"

She stared at him, tried to think through the endless subtext. Esther had not cursed her, she'd been born with this axe poised above her head. Klaus was claiming that she'd always been intended to be his soulmate. That was impossible. That would mean…

"That's impossible," she said, voice a little desperate. "Because that would mean you would belong to me."

He glanced at her from beneath his lashes, smile tucked into the edges of his mouth. "Be careful, Caroline. I'm not certain that is something you want, now is it?"

Caroline's mouth opened, closed. He traced her lip with his thumb, all traces of humanity stripped from the harsh lines of his face. "Or is it?"

She froze, nails biting into his clothing. Her breathing went ragged in her throat, at the way he watched her. His eyes dark, lips curving into something viciously triumphant. Her magic coiled under her skin, warm and biting, everywhere they touched. It wasn't quite want that sang in her veins, it was a need she couldn't explain. Whatever he read on her confused and wildly uncertain face, the slow caress against her mouth felt like a promise. "As I said, Caroline. You are mine."


End file.
